Phobia
by BuddhaBooty
Summary: Everyone's afraid of something, be it heights, the dark, or small spaces, but what frightens the strongest and most powerful warriors in all of China? Let's find out. WARNING! NON SLASH PAIRINGS!
1. Chapter 1: Phonophobia

Phobia

I own nothing. Try to guess what each type of phobia means! Dare you to WITHOUT looking them up BEFORE reading!

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Chapter 1: Phonophobia

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Lightning split the sky as thunder boomed throughout the Palace, eliciting a whimper of terror from one of the denizens. The trembling figure snuggled deeper into their blanket, attempting to cover their head in the cloth.

A second clap had them leaping out of the blanket and racing toward their door.

A third had them frozen, fear paralyzing the figure in the middle of the hallway. The master's breath hitched in their throat as they gazed down the hall to their left, the seemingly infinite distance before the pathway that lead to Master Shifu's room looming forebodingly before them. Glancing to the right, the darkness stretched even farther, but before them sat the doorway to salvation.

Behind that door was a home. Behind that door was a refuge. Behind that door the master would be safe, warm, loved, and wrapped in a blessed silence.

But to get to that door, the Kung Fu warrior had to brave the horrors of the loud, pounding thunder.

The warrior was stuck, frozen by fear, paralyzed, and melted to the spot.

Thunder struck not two miles from the Palace.

The warrior darted through one of the many paper frames in the door, silently promising to fix it after the storm ended, and found that they were curled up on their refuge's generous belly, face buried in the black and white's neck, trembling as a large hand rested upon the master's spine, gliding effortlessly down their body, once, twice, three times, until they stopped shivering.

"Why is there a hole in my door?" murmured the panda, meeting his lover's gaze.

A soft, embarrassed smile graced the warrior's face as they replied, "I don't like thunder."

Po nodded in understanding. He could fix it in the morning.

Returning his attention to the frightened being who rested on his stomach, Po smiled reassuringly and pulled his blanket up to cover them both. Cupping his love's face in his warm paw, he cradled their head against his chest, keeping out the loud booms of the storm that raged outside and whispered as he closed his eyes, "Swear to Buddha, next time, you're sleeping in my room, Viper."

The reptile didn't hear him, though, as she had already drifted off to sleep, comforted by the presence of her large, warm boyfriend.


	2. Chapter 2: Entomophobia

Phobia

I own nothing. Try to guess what each type of phobia means! Dare you to WITHOUT looking them up!

For Ch. 1- Phonophobia- irrational fear of loud noises

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Chapter 2: Entomophobia

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He had nothing against the insect. In fact, he would proudly die to protect him. They were comrades, brothers, even.

But the fact remained that every time he heard that tell tale 'crick!' of Mantis's legs scuttling along the floor, his teeth would grind in fear. Of what? He wasn't totally sure, but he was damn scared!

He had voiced this, jokingly, to the bug. That was, more or less, the reason his left leg was in a cast and he was confined to his room.

Of course, Viper had lovingly jumped in for him, every intention of decapitating her insect brother until the injured warrior had told her it was his fault for provoking him. She had been annoyed at the cruel response of the bug, but had left him alone in favor of helping her friend return to his room.

So, Po laid there, wincing occasionally as Viper offered him chamomile tea and spoke softly to him.

"We're all afraid of something, Po. You know about me and noise," she giggled, and Po sighed warmly, glancing at the hole in his door. The storm had been several weeks ago, but he didn't have the heart to seal the hole up. That, and it was Viper's escape route whenever there was a storm.

"I know, but I was hoping that maybe, if I told him, y'know, he'd, I don't know, help. I swear I wasn't trying to insult him!" Po defended, hissing in pain as his leg throbbed again.

"Oh, Po, I know you didn't mean it. Mantis has always been a little too sensitive. Now stop moving or your leg will never heal!" she shouted, lightly smacking the panda on his head.

Po smiled at his girlfriend, warmth spreading across her face as she wondered what perverted things he could be thinking.

Her fears were quelled when he murmured, "Y'know, Viper, you're the best person I've ever met. You're nice, funny, strong, and cute. How does a wonderful girl like you end up with a lazy fatso of a boyfriend like me?"

Her face contorted in a mixture between embarrassment and sorrow as she replied, "Po, you're not lazy, and I like how you look. You're cute, not fat. And you're the Dragon Warrior! How could I _not_ like you?"

Po sighed, stroking the side of his girlfriend's face as he whispered, "Love you, baby girl."

"Po, you are going to listen to me," commanded Viper, laying her tail on the side of his monochromatic face. "You are a wonderful, beautiful, kind, gentle person and if Mantis can't see that, it's his own loss. I love you, Po, and whether you know it or not, you are beautiful, because of everything you do and everything you won't. You wouldn't give up when all the rest of us had. You thought I was pretty even when I was so sure I wasn't. You, not Mantis, talked me down from the rafters, and I love you, Po. I just wish there was a way to show you how much I love you."

Po sighed at the mention of the rafters. The poor reptile had a terrible month after he had come to the Palace, from failed attempts to get him to notice her, to news of the death of all her beloved relatives in a massive fire at a family reunion she was supposed to be at, but the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back was when, during practice up at the Pool of Sacred Tears, she had fallen into the water and her lilies, the ones her grandfather had given her, were lost to the bottom of the pool.

She had been so devastated that she had raced off, Master Shifu telling them to let her go. It seemed like a good idea at the time, however, when they returned to the Palace that evening, they found Viper coiled in the rafters of the training Hall, rope tying her neck to the long beam.

Tigress had told her it would just prove that she was weak, and that if she did it, Tigress would follow her. Viper had smiled sadly and replied that she knew Tigress wouldn't do that.

Monkey had said that she had other options. They could get her new flowers, the finest in China. She had told him it was a sweet thought, but it wouldn't be the same.

Mantis had said that he'd build her the most perfect flowers ever made if only she would come down. She had smiled and thanked him, but made no sign that she was coming down safely.

Crane had told her he would give her anything she could possibly want. He didn't want to lose his best friend. She told him he would find another.

Master Shifu had told her that she didn't have to feel bad for living through the fire. She couldn't have known. He had told her that if she did it, the only thing she would accomplish was to hurt her family. He had told her that he saw her, all of the Five, as his children and that he could not bear to lose another child. She had sniffled and promised that they would meet again.

Then, finally, Po walked forward. He didn't tell her to come down. He didn't offer her extravagant gifts. He didn't even cry.

"I'm not gonna stop you, I just want to talk, just once, 'kay?" he spoke as though they were having tea instead of waiting for one to jump to her end.

She nodded.

"I just want to know, maybe, in the next life, if you'd be open for a dinner together? I'll buy," Po offered with absolute seriousness in his voice.

The others had stared as the reptile giggled, "I'd like that."

Po smiled as he spoke, voice clean of tears and crisp as a fall leaf, "I love you."

Her eyes became the size of dinner plates as she questioned, "Why? I'm not pretty or anything like that. What could you possibly see in me?"

"Your nose," he answered, continuing as she made no move to either help or hinder him. "It's got to be the cutest nose I've ever seen. I can tell what mood you're in just by watching it. When you're angry, it crinkles upward, and when you're happy it widens. You've got such an expressive nose. It's beautiful. I love you."

Tears in her eyes, Viper asked, "Do you want me to jump, Po?"

He smiled, and answered with another question, "Do you?"

She shook her head.

"Then don't."

And she had removed the noose from her thin neck and leapt down to wrap herself around the panda as her friends, her family, crowded around her, thanking the gods, thanking Po, and promising to be better people and a better family.

Po was brought out of his reverie when a small nose nuzzled his cheek in a warm sign of affection.

He turned his face and cupped her cheek in a worn hand, purring, "You already have, babe. You didn't jump."

Viper smiled against his hand and sighed, "Well, good. And besides, I think you're cute when you scream."

Po took offense at this and whined, "I do not scream. Mantis just startled me!"


	3. Chapter 3: Dendrophobia

Phobia

I own nothing. Try to guess what each type of phobia means! Dare you to WITHOUT looking them up!

Entomophobia - irrational fear of insects

I would like to give those of you who are taking the time to try to figure out these words a round of applause. I would also like to give a very special thank you to Perxio for that loving and wonderful review. It had me squealing in glee! And to FalconMage who is currently training with Tai Lung! And to Awerewolf who needs all the love he can get right now! Please, please, but PLEASE send him PMs of love, of support, and just be really cool to him! We love you, Awerewolf!!!

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Chapter 3: Dendrophobia

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Crane would never admit it to anyone. It just wasn't something many would expect from someone like him, especially considering what he was. If he could change, he would, but that wasn't something that seemed likely to happen any time soon.

Sighing in frustration, he swallowed the lump of fear in his throat and shook his head to clear the terror that threatened to eviscerate him. Leaping to the air, he spread wide, ivory wings like long, elegant clouds that would consume the sky in their loving shade, and soared forward.

The wave of tall figures, vermillion, carnelian, maroon, so many autumnal colors, threatened to engulf him. He didn't know why they scared him so much, but their intimidating size stood hovering over him even as he flew onward. They owned the land, not him. Theirs was the Earth, not anyone else's.

Perhaps it was their daunting size that terrified him. They stood, proud and strong, lording over him. They would forever touch the sky he loved so dearly, forever cuddle and cradle the Earth and soil that held him. He could never touch them, only wonder and marvel at their power.

Or maybe that was the route of his fear. Their might and infallibility amazed him to no end, stopping him in his tracks to admire the strength that permeated the air around them. Yet for all their strength, they held and maintained an elegant elderliness.

It could very well have been that age that scared him so much. Something that old remembered, and could very easily hold a grudge for hundreds of years. The memories and age instilled within the ancient branches of each of them held him captivated and fearful for his life. After all, Grand Master Oogway had said before that it was through age that he had learned to interpret motives and plans. He had seen them so many times, and Crane was certain that they had similar experiences.

He didn't know what it was that instilled the fear of karma within his weak, in comparison, at least, frame, but the combination of their size, power, and age frightened him so much he had avoided them vehemently for several years.

What the reason for it was, Crane was uncertain, but whatever it was, one thing was true. Master Crane's greatest fear was not death, was not being bound to the ground, but was, in fact, the mighty, gargantuan, ancient trees that always surrounded him.


	4. Chapter 4: Aquaphobia

Phobia

I own nothing. Try to guess what each type of phobia means! Dare you to WITHOUT looking them up!

Dendrophobia - irrational fear of trees

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Chapter 4: Aquaphobia

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If you asked Monkey what his least favorite time of day was, his instantaneous answer would always be bath time. It wasn't because of the poor quality of the soap that they used to remind themselves of the importance of humility. It wasn't because it was the Jade Palace's communal bathroom, so anyone could walk in. It **certainly** wasn't because he was afraid of bath time! The thought was absurd, inane, and just plain _wrong_.

He was, after all, **Master** Monkey of the Furious Five, one of the most feared and respected warriors in all of China, and he wasn't afraid of **anything**! That anything applied to the liquid that currently swirled and danced in the pool before him, reflecting his image back at him in a distorted, mocking way.

The warm water danced about, taunting the simian with calculatedly lazy motions. It twisted, and Monkey winced. It bounced with this motion, lapis lazuli rippling outward, and Monkey raced off to the other side of the bath house.

"I'm not afraid of water, I just don't want to get wet," he explained to the audience of dust motes that stared on expectantly.

Running a hand across his face, Monkey sighed a deep, annoyed breath and glared at the water as if it had done him some horrible, irreversible wrong.

Inching closer, he growled to the teasing waves, "I am **not** afraid of you. I am **not** afraid of you. I am **not** afraid of you."

The water did not reply, but seemed to twist and twirl faster as if daring the master to try something, anything at all.

Monkey reached the edge of the pool, glared down with all his might, and made up his mind.

--

"Geeze, Monkey, take a freaking bath!" shouted Mantis as he leapt onto the primate's shoulder only to leap back of as he was assaulted by the most horrid smell he'd ever had to sniff on his friend.

Monkey glowered, expression swearing violently as he replied, "I can't. The bath house got trashed."


	5. Chapter 5: Sociophobia

Phobia

I own nothing. Try to guess what each type of phobia means! But still read the stories, this one took forever since not only is my muse on vacation without me, but I have managed to get either strep or the stomach flu. Let me tell you this much, it's not much fucking fun, people! Not at all!

Oh! And The damn site won't let me PM Awerewolf, so could someone do that and tell him his little sister has been sending him PMs for days and just got a notice telling her none of them went through and that she loves him very much and hopes he doesn't think he's being ignored and that she's working on a story (inbetween barfing up Ramen and sneezing herself across the room) that she hopes will make it up to him! Please!!! If you do it, comment on this with your favorite pairing and a story of it will be added to the 'Mixed Nuts' series!

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Chapter 5: Sociophobia

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"No, Po, I'm not going out there," the stubborn voice of one Master Tigress proclaimed.

"Yes, you are. You're Master Tigress, for Buddha's sake! The kids love you, the parents love you, there's nothing you could possibly do to lower your status in their eyes, and if you do screw up, I'll just make a joke about how tough training is. Now come on. You're going to the festival," argued Po as he pulled on the feline master's arm, sending her stumbling forward a few feet before regaining her footing and halting his efforts.

"Po, please, don't make me do this," she begged.

Po froze. Master Tigress begged? No. It had to be some sort of really bad joke. Master Tigress would never beg, her dignity and honor wouldn't allow it!

"Okay, Tigress, what's really going on here?" Po asked in a 'don't BS me' tone.

She sighed dejectedly as she replied, "There are too many people at the Moon Festival."

"Too many? What do you mean?" Po queried, concern filtering through jade eyes.

The female turned away, refusing to meet the panda's eyes. She felt a blush creep across her face as she muttered her answer inaudibly.

"What? I'm sorry, Tigress, but if you don't speak up, I can't hear you," Po chastised gently.

She glared as she shouted, "I'm afraid of people, okay?"

Yanking her hand out of Po's, she growled as she walked off, "I guess I'm not so perfect, now."

'Not so perfect?' thought Po, sighing softly as the information clicked into place.

'She's a sociophobe, so she doesn't want to go, but she wants to be perfect. Why? To impress someone? Master Shifu, I bet. She's trying to impress Master Shifu,' Po thought, shuffling toward the Tiger Master's room.

Reaching the door, he stopped for the briefest of moments as a sob rattled him to the core, the ugly truth rearing its head like a glinting arrow from around a corner, unseen until it was too late to duck, in a corridor too narrow to dodge.

Tigress was crying.

He had hurt her, that was certain. Po had never felt so horrible in all his life. He was about to go in and apologize when he heard another voice. Curiosity piqued, he made a small incision in rice paper of the door and gawked through.

What he saw nearly stopped his heart.

Master Shifu stood before a kneeling Tigress, small hands running down her arms as their faces inched together until their muzzles connected in a fierce, passionate, hurtful kiss. Tigress grabbed the smaller master and pinned him to the ground, holding his arms above his head as he allowed himself to be dominated by the powerful female.

She growled deeply at him as if in rage before muttering, "You know I am a sociophobe. You're just trying to be a bastard, telling Po to make me go down there."

"You knew I would, so why not save some energy and just go?" he countered, receiving a slap to the face, cherry streams forming where diamond claws had torn flesh.

He angrily snarled, "I thought I taught you better than that, _Master_ Tigress, or do you forget your honor so easily that Kung Fu means nothing to you?"

Po was unable to see her expression, but he had the distinct feeling that she was grinning rather madly as she breathed, "Stupid rules are made to be broken and stupid decisions, such as trying to send me to the Moon Festival, are made to be punished."

The scene flew into motion as Master Shifu flipped his star student onto her back, effortlessly pinning her arms to her sides as he sat astride her chest, lips crashing down upon hers as he muttered, "Or maybe I just like seeing you get riled up."

"Or maybe I just _let_ you watch me get riled up," she countered, purring deeply.

Po saw the hands of both masters straying and decided it was time to go.

Racing down the steps at full speed, he never even heard Tigress sigh, "You do know this will be all over the village by tomorrow morning, right?"

Shifu leaned down, stealing one more kiss from the woman before answering, "If they have a problem, they may speak to me. I will be happy to direct them to the nearest hospital afterwards."

She grinned maliciously as she exclaimed, "So you _did_ know he was watching!"


	6. Chapter 6: Claustrophobia

Phobia

I own nothing. Done as a gift to all those who were worried about my mysterious disappearance into New Jersey. Also, I'd like to mention that I'm starting a new storyvery soon, a belated Christmas story, called Animadverto Licentia. Dare you to look up what it means! And it'll be a dosey, may even go over my usual 10 to 15 chapters! And not those shrimpy little things, either, though some things like the prologue are going to be short. Anyway, what I've been trying to get to is that I'm creating a few new characters and if you're reading this then I'd like a vote on the following in your (REAL) review.

Should the reincarnation of *insert name of dead character from Kung Fu Panda here* to be found and (hopefully) raised by Shifu be a:

1) Snow leopard

2) Tortoise

3) Other (please specify)

Thank you, Happy Chrismahaunakwanzaka, and enjoy!!!

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Chapter 6: Claustrophobia

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BANG!!!

CRASH!!!

BOOM!!!

He ran into the walls again and again, desperately seeking escape.

CRACK!!!

The pain of his shell breaking went unnoticed through his constant mental mantra, his litany of fear.

"Must escape, must escape, must escape,"

SMACK!!!

The bars around him seemed to shrink, trying to crush him in a steady grip. He could feel their metallic fingers wrapping around him, drawing cries from his clenched, useless throat.

SQUISH!!!

His wings.

He couldn't feel his wings!

They were gone!

The monster, iron and powerful, had grabbed them as he attempted to flee from its grasp and had torn them out from under his shell!

Phwoomp.

He fell gracelessly to the floor of the suspended cell, mind numbing itself as torture and sky-longing ate his thoughts and gave him new ones.

'The sky,' he thought, trying to see it through the thick iron ceiling of his imprisonment. 'The sky. I can't touch it, I can't feel it, I can't even see it. The sky's abandoned me. I'll die here, in this hell, these bars will eat me, I bet. The guards'll be making their rounds, look in, and I won't be more than a smear on the bottom of the cage. No one will remember me for anything but foolishness. I was nothing but a fool to try to outrun this. I was too fast.'

Too fast.

The idea had never occurred to the insect before. Why would it have? He had always been able to outrun everything. From hordes of deadly ladybugs to packs of rabid wolves, there was nothing he wasn't fast enough for.

Except that. Except those poles, those phantoms that hovered around him as inescapable as Mother Nature's rage, closing in, slowly inching forward like mountains as they laughed at him. They looked like they were stationary, sounded silent, but he knew they were laughing. They just hid it behind dark colors like a lady giggling behind her fan.

'Please,' he begged silently to whatever deities would listen. 'just kill me and get it over with. Make it quick, because I can't do this. It's too small. I'm scared.'

There, he had admitted it. Master Mantis was scared. He was stuck in that tiny room, destined to be eaten alive, and he was afraid of it.

Daring to reopen eyes blurred by tears, he looked around once more, sighed, and went to sleep, resigning himself to whatever fate would befall him.

Hours blended to days blended to weeks and there he stayed, shifting from corner to corner, ignoring the hunger pangs that had, on occasion, been so bad he had doubled over, falling to his knees only to lose bile and blood on the floor of his cage.

The world has stopped turning for him at some point over those days, or if it still turned, it went unnoticed. Mantis's energy was spent. He lay on the ground, motionless, trying to ignore the laughing of the bars that he had long since decided were sadists. They stood there, hiding behind their silence, taking vast pleasure in his slow starvation.

Speed no longer existed. The world – and, consequentially, he – was still. Nothing moved, the sun didn't set or rise, the clouds didn't so much as twitch, the wind no longer brought hopes of fresh air in the stale scent of his own excretions.

He prayed for the end, for death to take him. It hurt so much. Had he been asked for a list of injuries, he would have asked if it was wanted alphabetically or by location. The germy air had given him a splitting sinus infection, which, in turn, opened the gate for strep throat and antennae infections. He had nearly given up on lying down, and would have stood if he'd had the energy, from the pain it caused his kidneys to do so. The lack of fluid intake had resulted in a bladder infection that quickly grew to a major problem. That wasn't to mention the myriad of bruises, lacerations, and a broken leg.

A glance at the metal bars, tall and proud, silently betting stolen spirits and first dibs on his flesh upon when he would crack, told him how he could stop it. He could stop all his pain completely; never have to worry about it again. He would feel cool relief in his lower regions, feel a calming in his stomach, and know he was safe.

Untying one of his leg bindings, he began tying one end to the top of the cage when a voice carried on the wind murmured words inaudible to him. The voice was steady and aged, kind and gentle, like a grandfather's or an aged uncle's. With that sound came hope, an almost joy, and the idea that would get him out of there alive.

Smirking, he laid himself on the ground, promising to find the owner of that voice when he was done to thank them in person.

"Hey, Mantis, time to eat!"

Food? It sounded too good to be true. He almost leapt up, but focused all his energy on not screaming in pain as his sore sides were prodded. A small amount of puss was squeezed from one of the sores, and he felt it churn in his bladder, leaking out onto his stomach, drawing a collective 'ew' from the guards.

The cage opened. It was time.

Mustering up every ounce of strength he had left in his body, Mantis leapt at the guards, throwing punch after punch, recalling the gentle firmness, the age-filled youth of the voice, relaxing his style into something quick but steady.

And then, he won.

And then, he lost.

He realized, in that moment, the balance, the necessity of both. He could not win without losing, just as he could not be fast without stillness.

Wincing, he looked up to see a gnarled vermillion hand outstretched to him, the owner of said appendage smiling warmly and wisely as he spoke, "Well done, Mantis."

Mantis smiled back at him and allowed himself to collapse into the hand, sight shifting to black, knowing he would be well cared for.


End file.
